Onyxes and Rubies
by RikkuMcClowFox
Summary: Light versus darkness. Evil versus good. Onyxes versus rubies. In the end, it all boils down to a choice. Too bad the choice was never hers to make. Shadow/Rouge/Knuckles thing.


**A/N: Wow it's been awhile. Anyways, this a little something different that I've whipped up to basically left everyone know I am alive. (I know, shocking.) Without further ado, I hope you all enjoy it.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. If I did, I wouldn't be writing fanfiction. **

_Date Unknown_

_From the Diary of Rouge the Bat:_

_Rubies and onyxes are two of the most beautiful gems in existence, I would know. The jewelry industry constantly and incorrectly advertises diamonds as a girl's best friends. What they fail to consider is that not all girls are the same. Some prefer the less expensive look of an opal necklace while others swoon over massive diamonds set a top their fingers and still a few ceremoniously wear their birthstones as closely as they follow their horoscopes._

_I'm not picky. I appreciate all things that sparkle. From cheapskate rhinestones to ostentatious jewelry that put Queen Victoria's accessories to sham, I see the value in all of them. Each one has something that the other lacks. A quality that tempts you to wear them on that particular day for whatever reason. Maybe you want to match your eyes, or your outfit, or you want to coordinate with your man._

_But there are two gems that I favor above the rest. Rubies and onyxes. Subtle and rather commonplace gems, right? That's why I like them. You find them everywhere and yet have you ever stopped to think about what the wearer of such gems has to go through to sport such gems?_

_An onyx is easy enough to match. Dark and black as night, it matches anything. Which is why it is so hard to wear. It matches anything, which means it blends into the background. People will take notice if you wear a bright green emerald with a black dress by an onyx? They'll glance it over, never pausing to appreciate its beauty. _

_A ruby on the other hand can't be missed. Flashy and almost hot-tempered if gems were to have a personality, rubies are noticed even if you sport a fire engine red dress. They shine all on their own. But, like onyxes, they have their drawbacks. You can't pair a ruby with much. Match it with green and you look like a Christmas elf ready for caroling, wear it with blue and you'll be praised for you American spirit, and for black and white, don't even get me started on finding the matching purse and heels to accessorize the jewelry with. Red heels are hardly subtle, dears. _

_I used to be a one-gem woman. Now I feel like a cheater, alternating between ruby and onyx jewelry depending on my mood. Many people have told me I need to quit playing around and make a discussion. Yet how can I give up one without feeling like I lost a piece of myself? _

_Rubies are associated with light, redemption, and all that good stuff that's supposed to "save" people. They make me feel good, make me feel like I could be a better person—that I should be a better person. As fiery and unmanageable as they can be, they're always virtuous. Yet, should I strive to be something I'm not? I'm a bad girl here; how could I ever hope to live in the light and not crave the shadows? On the other hand, I know I'll be saved with rubies, I won't have to worry about crossing the line. I'll always be wanted, cherished from afar like some worthy of dignity. And darkness and light make the best concoction, don't they? Toxic, forbidden, and dangerously delicious. _

_But with virtue comes a price. I have to sacrifice a part of me. I have to choose them over myself and I don't know if I'm honorable enough to do that. I'd lose some of the passion, the seductiveness that comes with the bewitching darkness. I think I would miss that more than anything._

_With onyxes, I wouldn't have to make that sacrifice. I could revel in the temptations of darkness, always mysterious, always ominous in the best possible way. I wouldn't have to strive to be anything but me. I could do what I wanted when I wanted without a care for the consequences. Onyxes offer freedom as well as a sexual relationship that could never compare to its moral counterpart. I would not only be loved, but ravished. I would be ruled by my wants and desires, a fire that couldn't be tamed. Second thoughts wouldn't exist. I wouldn't have to question which is wrong or right. I could just choose. _

_But if I choose onyxes, I would be forever damned, forsaken from the light that rubies reside in. There would be no swaying, I couldn't go back. I would spend eternity as a creature of the night. I would be damning any future that I could or would have. I would have to live in the moment and hope for the best._

_Temptations versus integrity. Honor versus shame. A carefree lifestyles versus one ruled by morality. Darkness versus light. Evil versus good. Onyxes versus rubies._

_In the end, it all boils down to a choice._

_~Rouge_

_P.S. Loves: In case you couldn't tell, we're no longer talking about gems here._

The pen fell from Rouge's hand, forgotten as it rolls to somewhere on the floor. She continued laying on her bed for some time, staring at the journal entry she had forgotten she had written. The sparkly purple ink that she now loathed stared back at her, the taunting little hearts over her 'i's seeming to dance across the page as she tried to focus. Lying flat on her stomach, feet in the air and ankles crossed with hands delicately poised underneath her chin, she looked as if she's posing for a picture.

And she was, in a sense.

Clad in her finest silk nightgown of lacy black, she'd been waiting for him to come home for some time, yearning for his touch. Every time her sensitive ears picked up on the sound of a door opening, she subconsciously posed herself to look tempting, innocent, and disinterested—like she didn't know what she was doing. She knew he knew though. He always knew what she was thinking, what her true intentions were. Yet he played along for the sake of fun, teasing her a little as well when their positions were switched and she was the one coming home late. She had tried to turn the tables on him various times, but their cozy, chic apartment made it impossible to remain silent for long, The contractors obviously hadn't been thinking when they designed the stupid geometric set up. It might look cool and modern, but it was a pain to maneuver around in.

Tucking a lock of white hair behind her ear, Rouge glanced at the clock, shifting out of her pose for a second. 11:45. _I'll be home at eleven, my ass._

The faint click of a door reached her ears and she swiftly arched back into position. Even if he did know what her intentions were, it always worked on him, his virtue be damned. A moment later disappointment coursed through her when she realized it was only the neighbors' door as she heard the loud conversations that Mr. and Mrs. Smith seemed to have out in the hallways at various hours in the night.

Bored, teal eyes return to her journal entry, scanning it over again. How naïve she had been at the time, wavering between two_ boys_. When they had seemed to become men overnight, her decision had become ten times more difficult. Fickle hormones had drifted away to be replaced by unbridled wants and needs, fueled by that pride that all men seemed to have. Many a times, they had pressed her on a choice and always she had found a way to weasel her way out of it, both of them still wrapped around her finger.

But that was before that day had come… The day when her choice was made for her. One side took her while the other rejected anything to do with her, basking all their _honor _and _righteousness_.

She held no ill will towards the one that got away. Couldn't summon the humility that would be brought upon her if she were to ever blame someone else for a problem she had caused. She had wanted chaos and she got it—just not in the way that she could handle. All the time, she had had the upper hand, toying and manipulating with their feelings like a grand puppeteer. She hadn't ever considered her puppets would grow minds of their own and cut their strings by which she led them.

In the end, the choice hadn't been hers to make.

A door creaked again. Assuming it was Mr. and Mrs. Smith going back into their humble home since the hallway had grown quiet, Rouge didn't think much of it. Her gaze was still trained on her entry, lost in memories of long ago.

When the door to their bedroom suddenly swung open though, she did take notice. Her head snapped up like her thoughts made her somehow guilty in his ever observant eyes. She tried to cover her surprise, by purring out a, "Hello, darling." Too late did she remember to pose.

He stood in the doorway for a second, eyes looking right through her as if she were transparent. She shivered uncontrollably, the temperature seeming to fall as it always did whenever he was around. She suddenly wished she had used the silky blankets to pose with rather than her skimpy nightgown.

A curl of his lips told her that he appreciated the effort as he eyes traveled the length of her mostly bare body, savoring every drop. Again, she shivered, but not from the temperature.

He moved towards her, power curling around him with every painfully slow step he took. She knew he could move much faster than that. Teasing her again, making her wait.

When he was just a breath away, he unexpectedly stopped. She looked up at him, confused and annoyed, but understood when she saw his gaze was on her open journal. "It's nothing," she said, hastily closing the book. Leaning back so she could look at him, she patted the space next to her. "Now come on and sit down, baby. You look like you've had a long day at work. Maybe you need a relaxing massage?" She winked, tugging at a belt loop on his sophisticated black slacks. He could never resist the signature Rogue-wink that had taken her all of her teenage years to perfect.

But unfortunately there would be no delicious foreplay this evening as he sat beside her and snatched up the journal that she had been trying to hide within the folds of the sheets. A small protest was all that came from her lips, knowing that she couldn't possibly sway him if that was what he was mind was set on.

The seconds as he read over the entry were awkward and frightened for Rouge. Of course he would pick up on the dual-meaning. He was too smart not to. While she was sure he had known of her indecision beforehand, that didn't mean she wanted him reading her most inner-personal thoughts. Privacy was one of those things that was timeless, unlike chivalry.

A hand ran up the length of her arm, resting on her shoulder. Before she could blink, she was pushed back onto the bed, hands tugging at her nightgown, lips scouring for hers. The freeze she had been feeling erupted into a frantic fire of want and lust. Fire burned along her skin in every place he touched her, leaving her gasping as she tried to find a handhold on reality.

A life fueled by desire, cravings, needs—wasn't this what she wanted? Screw caring and the fairytale of true love.

He kissed along her jaw until they found the sensitive spot right underneath her ear. He nipped there and she jerked upwards in response, gasping and muttering nonsensical things that were driven by passion. "Do you think you made the right choice now?" he growled into her ear, momentarily bringing her down for her high.

She didn't pause to think about his question. She had been waiting for him to ask her this question all throughout their relationship. She had her answer ready.

"No," she said simply, turning her head so she could capture his lips and silence him. The fire returned, just as powerful as before. She wouldn't be surprised if the sheets were suddenly alit with flames.

This was all she needed. All she wanted.

Yet, why then, did some part of her whisper another answer when he asked her that question. She had always been so sure. Why the doubt now?

If he was aware of her hesistation, he didn't show as he cotinued to kiss her, sending her mind into a tizzy of pure feeling. Banishing the thoughts, she let herself be overpowered by him, his touch, his kisses, his presence, his everything. She let herself drift away, living in the moment.

But when he got her to scream his name that evening, in the deepest recesses or her mind, another name was being whispered.

**A/N: As for who did she pick, it's up to you. Whether you're a Knuxouge fan or a Shadouge fan, this should give you to read and enjoy.**


End file.
